Picking Up the Pieces
by VictoryNike
Summary: AU. Frank Longbottom survives the Cruciatus curse with his sanity unscathed. Alice, however, isn't so lucky. Now, Frank must face his greatest flaws and deepest doubts in order to pick up the pieces of her memory, and save the world in the process.
1. Prolouge

**Disclaimer**: The Harry Potter Universe and characters all belong to JK Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.

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**Chapter One**

Prologue

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_"So long as I can breathe or I can see, so long lives your love which gives life to me"_  
-William Shakespeare

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The rusty taste of blood stings my tongue as I crawl mindlessly, blinded by my tears. Alice is screaming, my son Neville is crying. I have to get to them. My limbs give out, and I fall onto the floor that is littered with broken glass. Broken, like I am. Broken, like my heart. I begin to sob, hopelessly, foolishly. I, Frank Longbottom, lie uselessly on the floor, sobbing when my family needs me most.

My pain isn't enough. They find me again. _She_ finds me again. She casts the spell again, "_Crucio!_", and laughs as my screams rent the air, mingling with those of Alice and Neville, a sadistic three part melody.

"Kill me." I whisper through bloody lips. Death would be better than this. "Kill us all." I had failed my wife and son. The best I could hope for them was death.

She is annoyed now, desperate even. Asking me over and over for answers I don't have. My world fades to darkness. Not the kind darkness of slumber, or even death, but the empty darkness that forces me to remember everything.

* * *

_We were sitting in the bright sunshine outside of Alice's dad's ice cream parlor. Neville had ice cream smeared all over his chubby face, and the November wind toyed with his black hair as he sat on his grandfather's lap. I put my arm around Alice, reveling in the peace following You-Know-Who's downfall. I remember feeling a sense of foreboding. It seemed impossible that James and Lily's little boy, the same age as Neville, could destroy He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named._

_We had offered to adopt Harry, but Dumbledore had been firm. He was to live with his aunt and uncle, both muggles. Alice had been in a right state that week, between mourning for the Potters and worrying about their son. _

_Lily and Alice had been best friends at Hogwarts. James Potter was my roommate for seven years at Hogwarts as well, and I had come to regard Lily as a sister of sorts. We both felt that taking in their son was the least we could do for the Potters, since Sirius Black had apparently betrayed the Potters..._

_I didn't want to think about it. Alice had sighed softly beside me, and I could tell that she too was remembering those that had turned traitor, who had left the Order for Voldemort's side. _

_All around us, wizards celebrated. Alice had insisted that we walk all the way around Diagon Alley so we didn't have to pass by The Hog's Head on the way to the ice cream parlor. She didn't want Neville to see the people who were surely drunk outside the bar from a night of celebration. _

_I knew the truth though, even though Alice would never speak it aloud. She felt as though the celebrations disrespected the memories of all those who died in the war. The horrible war that had made orphans out of innocent children and heartbroken widows and widowers out of newlyweds. Impulsively, I walked over to my father-in-law and picked Neville up off his lap, hugging him close. We were so lucky. We were still together, alive and healthy, Alice, Neville, and I. Neville laughed, waving his ice cream spoon in his hand, splattering the back of my robes with minty ice cream. _

_I kissed his sticky cheek. It wasn't often Alice and I spent time with our precious little boy. Our work as Aurors often meant we were gone on missions for weeks together, leaving Neville my mother's house. We were lucky if we saw our one-year-old once in two weeks. _

_Neville dropped his spoon and yawned, putting his little head on my shoulder sleepily. His arms wrapped around my neck, and his eyes drooped. _

"_Time to go home, I think," Alice had said, stroking his dark hair. Two handfuls of Floo powder later, we were home in our little cottage by the sea._

_Since Voldemort was gone now, work wasn't so hectic. Of course, we were still dealing with Voldemort's followers, but we could still bring Neville home-our home, not the grim mansion of my childhood, where my mother still lived and Neville stayed when we were gone. _

_The happy atmosphere was shattered by a creamy envelope, clutched in the beak of a handsome, tawny owl. At first I was confused. I hadn't received an envelope like that in three years, ever since I got my last Hogwarts letter. The seal and red wax was unmistakable. Exchanging a glance with Alice, I placed my sleeping son gently on the couch and then reached for the letter. The owl held out its leg, and I untied the envelope. _

_Inside was a scrap of parchment, covered with loopy script I recognized as Dumbledore's._

Stay alert. The war isn't over yet, not by a long shot.

-D

_I stared at it for a long time. I knew Dumbledore would have elaborated if he could. He must have suspected that there was a chance the message could be intercepted. I read it over and over, searching for some sort of a hidden meaning. _

_Alice peered over my shoulder. I handed her the note, and perched lightly on the edge of the couch, careful not to disturb Neville. I rested my elbows on my knees and placed my head in my hands. The war isn't over yet, not by a long shot. What could he mean? _

"_What does he mean, Frank?" Alice asked, voicing my thoughts. _

"_I- I don't know." Many different emotions were boiling in the pit of my stomach. Despair, guilt, anger. Predominantly anger. After all the lives that were lost, all the bloodshed and fighting, the war still wasn't over?_

_Alice must have sensed my frustration, because she put a hand on my shoulder. "Let's put Neville in his crib first, Frank."_

_I nodded, and tenderly picked him up and carried him up the stairs to his room. _

_When I came back down the stairs after putting Neville in his crib, Alice was unwrapping a stick of Droobles' Best Blowing Gum. I sighed. Alice had an uncanny addiction to the magical sweet, especially when she was agitated. It wouldn't have been so bad if it weren't for the fact that the bubbles would pop for weeks. _

"_Again, Alice?" I asked her, exasperated._

_She knit her brows, and popped a stick of the bluebell-colored gum into her mouth anyway. Alice collapsed into the rocking chair and rocked back and forth slowly._

"_Frank," she said thoughtfully, chewing her gum. "you don't think they've got some sort of next-in-line? An heir to You-Know-Who's position as leader?"_

_I began pacing the length of the sitting room. "Could be. If that was the case though, wouldn't we have received a summons from the Order?"_

"_Or we would have heard from the ministry." Alice added. "If you think about it, this would be the perfect time to attack. All the aurors are off duty, everyone's off celebrating..."_

"_Attack us? But why-" I was cut off by a loud bang and a crash from upstairs._

_Alice paled. "Neville." she whispered. She turned and dashed up the stairs. I followed her._

_When we were halfway up the stairs, the crying started. Neville was bawling. The noise filled my heart with terror. It wasn't the I-want-Mummy cry or the I'm-hungry sort of crying. It was the kind that could only be caused by pain. We climbed faster. Alice sprinted down the hall toward the nursery with me at her heels._

_A kind of crude, mocking lullaby reached my ears. My heart stopped. Alice threw open the door. A woman was standing standing by Neville's crib, her back to us. She turned slowly around. Still singing her jeering lullaby. Those haunting dark eyes and taunting smile could only belong to one. Bellatrix Lestrange. _

_In her arms, one that I knew was tattooed with the Dark Mark, was my baby son. My auror training kicked in as I drew my wand faster than I ever had before. Too late. From behind us, I heard deep, throaty male laughter and turned to find two Death Eaters I recognized as Rodolphus Lestrange and his brother Rabastan, along with another Death Eater, still masked, blocking the doorway, wands pointed at us. _

"_We'll make this easy for you, Franky." Bellatrix said in in a sing-song voice. "Tell us where the Dark Lord is, or we will hurt your precious wittle baby." She pressed Neville's cheek to hers in a gesture of mock affection. Neville squirmed and cried even louder. _

"_We don't know!" Alice yelled, her eyes darting from Neville to the wand in her hand, desperately searching for a way to save our son. I stepped forward, wand raised, prepared to defend my wife and son. _

"_Expelli-" _

_With a flick of my wand, I blocked the spell. "Not so fast, Lestrange," I snarled at Rodolphus, pointing my wand at his throat. "Give me my son."_

_Bellatrix laughed, long and loud. "Drop your wand, Longbottom." _

_I didn't move, I remained where I was, breathing heavily. _

"_DROP YOUR WAND, FOOL!" Bellatrix screamed, not in desperacy for her husband's life, but in anger. She pressed her own wand against Neville's neck threateningly. _

_I turned slowly away from Rodolphus and let go of my wand. It fell on the alphabet patterned nursery carpet with a small thud. I didn't watch it fall. I never once took my eyes of my son._

"_You too, girl." _

_Alice dropped her wand, and attempted to calm the still crying Neville from afar, murmuring soothing nonsense under her breath. _

"_Now tell me: WHERE IS THE DARK LORD?" Bellatrix demanded, pressing her wand into Neville's throat, choking him. _

"_WE DON'T KNOW! WE WERE TOLD HE WAS GONE!" I yelled._

"_LIES! Didn't your mother ever teach you to tell the truth, Longbottom?" Bellatrix growled. _

"_Crucio!" I braced myself, but the spell wasn't meant for me. Neville screamed and writhed. The sounds torn from his lips were unearthly and filled with pure pain. _

_I let out a cry of outrage and launched myself at Bellatrix. No one touched my baby son. How dare she cast an Unforgivable Curse on my precious boy? _

"_Not so fast, Longbottom." Rodolphus said, mimicking what I had told him only moments earlier. "Crucio!" _

_The pain cut me like a thousand knives, turned my blood into fire that consumed me from the inside. The curse wore off, and although I was half blinded by tears, I saw Alice wrest Neville from Bellatrix's grasp and clutch him to her chest._

_Bellatrix raised her wand and cast the Cruciatus curse on Alice. It was horrible to watch, even as the curse caused her to go into spasms of unbearable pain, Alice twisted herself, sheltering Neville with her own body. _

_The force of their curses shattered the window, littering the floor with jagged pieces of glass. Chunks of plaster rained down from the ceiling. _

"_What do you know? Where is he? What happened to him?" Bellatrix shrieked. I heard a desperate note in her voice. _

"_I don't know." I said again. She didn't believe me._

"_Crucio! Crucio!" she yells. The pain ravages my body again. _

"_Reducto!" Rabastan yelled from the doorway, blasting a hole in the second-story floor, causing the floor underneath me to collapse inward and fall with me to the story below._

_Time seemed to slow as I fell onto the first floor. My face hit the ground hard. Dazed and disoriented, I attempted to stand, but was unable to. The world was spinning, the pain unbearable. The last thing I remember is trying and failing to get to my family._

* * *

My bleary eyes take in soft blue wallpaper, a bespectacled man. I blink again and again. The world comes into focus for what seems like the first time in eternity. I lie on a bed that feels like it was spun out of the clouds. My first thought is that I am dead. To my surprise, I welcome the thought. I turn my head and see none other than Albus Dumbledore, half-moon spectacles and all.

"Ah, Frank. At last, you've granted me the pleasure of your company." Dumbledore gives me a kind smile and surveys me with his blue eyes, almost as if he was looking for something. I look at him suspiciously.

I look down at my hands. My various cuts and scrapes are bandaged the muggle way, my head wrapped in layers of gauze.

I flex my broken hand slowly. It hurts, but I don't wince. I've felt much, much worse. However, it rules out the possibility of being dead.

When I speak to Dumbledore, I ask only one question. "Where are they?"

Professor Dumbledore understands immediately. "Alice and Neville are in the ward across the hall. But Frank-"

I've already risen, standing unsteadily on my feet, striding past Dumbledore and into the hall. I open the door without knocking, and sweep the place with my eyes, searching, searching for my family. There are three beds in the ward. None of them contain Alice or Neville.

An elderly healer bustles by, carrying something on a tray. Seeing me, she stops short.

"Oh. You're here to see her, aren't you?"

"Alice?" I ask. "Where is she?"

"She's in a closed ward, dear."

"Can you take me to her?" I plead. I need to know she's okay. I need to know that they're both okay.

She nods quietly, and leads me down the corridor to a solitary door at the end. She opens the door slowly, and I rush inside.

Alice is sitting unnaturally straight, barely using the pillow that has been placed at the headboard of her bed for support.

"Alice!" I cry.

I wait for her to turn, smile, say my name. Maybe even run into my arms.

She doesn't move, she doesn't even acknowledge that I'm there.

I freeze. Is she mad at me? Does she blame me for the attack? My mind races, considering all the possibilities. What if-what if something happened to Neville?

I spin around. I call out to the Healer. "Excuse me, but my son- is he all right?"

I start breathing heavily. My entire world hinges on her reply. Not my son. Not my boy.

"He's fine, thankfully. He's with his grandmother now." she replies, smiling. My entire body relaxes. Neville is fine. He's safe. Thank Merlin.

I turn back to Alice, who hasn't moved a muscle, still staring at the wall as if she hoped her eyes would bore holes in it. I shifted my own gaze to the wall. There was nothing special about it whatsoever. The entire ward had been painted a soothing shade of mint green, but aside from that, there was nothing significant about it.

I step closer to her. Alice remains motionless. The panic I felt moments before as I worried for my son was back, this time, for the health of my wife.

"Alice?" I call again. No response.

I cross the distance between myself and Alice and sink into an armchair beside her bed. I take her hand. "Alice, sweetheart?"

Silence.

"Alice." This time I call her name more forcefully, my panic clearly apparent in the tone of my voice.

She still doesn't turn.

I grab her chin and force her to look at me, look into my eyes.

For a long moment, I stare into her eyes, shocked. No longer do her dark eyes shine and sparkle, full of life and vibrancy. They are empty, orbs, orbs that looked straight through me, unfocused. Her eyes saw, but did not understand. My heart shatters into a million pieces, never to be completely whole again.

I take her face in both my hands. "Alice it's me, Frank. Remember me? Don't you remember me?"

I'm fighting tears now. All my Auror training on keeping my emotions hidden is rendered useless by the sight of my Alice like this.

I let go of Alice's face. She resumes staring at the wall blankly. I put my head in my hands. I reach into my pocket and find that my handkerchief, after all we've been through, was still in my pocket. I press it to my face. Delusionally, I wonder if it was all a horrible horrible dream, and I would wake up to find Alice back to normal, with her sparkling eyes and enthusiastic smile asleep next to me.

Someone puts their hand on my shoulder. I withdraw my hands from my face and glance at it. The long fingers could only belong to Professor Dumbledore. I look up into his wise, lined face. "What-what happened to her?"

"Frank. Some injuries cannot be healed." He replies softly.

I stare at him, uncomprehending. Praying, praying that it wasn't so, that she could be returned to normal.

"Alice had the Cruciatus Curse cast on her repeatedly. The Lestranges literally tortured her into insanity." His voice is calm, but I can sense underlying distress. I stand up.

"I'll kill them." I growl. "I'll kill them all." I reach into the pocket of my robes, but realize the familiar wooden handle of my wand isn't there.

"Calm down, Frank. I've gathered something of what happened to you through what you were muttering in your sleep." My gaze wanders to my hands, one had a muggle cast on it. The other was covered with bandages. "You fought violently every time the healers tried to approach you with a wand, you know. They had to fix you up the muggle way." Dumbledore adds.

I turn away from him, choosing instead to stroke Alice's hair. I can only imagine what horrors they put her through, the devils. It's a miracle her that while her body has not a mark on it, her mind has not managed to escape unscathed.

"Is there no way I can help her?" I ask Professor Dumbledore quietly.

"There's always a way for those who are willing to take the risks and brave the challenges." Dumbledore says, his voice is strong, and it fills me with courage.

I whirl around to look him in the face. I'll always feel like a child next to Dumbledore, both because of his immense height and immense wisdom. "I'll do anything. Just tell me how, and I'll do it." My voice is steady, my gaze unwavering.

He nods. I sit on the edge of Alice's bed, offering him the armchair. He seats himself with a small smile of thanks.

"Frank, there's something else you should know."

My mind has been so occupied with Alice's condition that I hadn't thought about the motivations for the attack, or what had happened to the Lestranges. Or, for that matter, why unlike Alice, I didn't lose my mind.

But I have more pressing concerns. I push my questions to the back of my head and lean toward Dumbledore, in order to hear better.

"Bellatrix Lestrange happened to be the witness to a very strange event back in your early days as an Auror. Perhaps you remember it?"

I raise an eyebrow. "When Alice and I were separated from the Auror troop and were kidnapped by Death-Eaters?"

It had been part of a training exercise. We were left in the midst of a densely wooded forest. To this day, I don't know where it was, but we were being tested on our survival skills in the forest with magical animals. Mad-Eye had been particularly reluctant to allow Alice and I to be partners, saying that couples shouldn't be partnered for training exercises. Finally, he let us be together, warning us that romance would have to wait. Alice and I had exchanged a glance at this, and a small smirk. One of Mad-Eye's assistants had side-along apparated us to the woods and left us there, apparating back by himself. As soon as he left, we were surrounded by Death-Eaters. We were sorely outnumbered and were brought before You-Know-Who. He asked us to join their side. We both replied that we would never do so.

He raised his wand, probably to curse us into submission, but the strangest thing happened. Alice and You-Know-Who locked eyes. For some reason, he was unable to look away. For a long moment they stood there, Alice pinning He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named with a burning gaze. Suddenly, he drew his wand and slashed at the air between them. Alice blinked, and You-Know-Who was released from her stare. He stepped back, breathing heavily, and then gave the order for the Death-Eaters to disapparate.

We were left there, unharmed.

Many times afterward, I would ask Alice what had happened. She never told me. She only said that she didn't want to talk about it, and her face would take an expression of such distress that I wouldn't press the subject. Yet, I always wondered.

"Yes. I need you to tell me everything that you remember from that day." Dumbledore says seriously.

I tell him.

"Frank, did you have any idea that Alice was a very talented Legilimens? In some ways, more accomplished than Lord Voldemort himself?"

"No."

She was? Alice could read minds? _Can_. I tell myself. She _can_ read minds. I refuse to think of her in the past tense as if she is already dead.

"Do you mean to say Professor, that Alice read You-Know-Who's mind?" I ask incredulously.

"Very good, Frank!" Dumbledore said smiling, as if I were back in school and had correctly answered a particularly difficult question.

"But that's impossible. He was supposedly the greatest Legilimens that ever lived."

"Alice was never one to wear her abilities on her sleeve. You of all people should know that. A useful talent, really."

I open my mouth to speak, but Professor Dumbledore cuts me off. "And another thing. Frank, I do not believe that Voldemort is dead."

My eyes widen. No. It couldn't be. Lily didn't sacrifice her life, James didn't die for Voldemort to live while their bodies lay under the ground. Benjy Fenwick. Marlene McKinnon, Dorcas Meadows... they all died in vain?

"But Professor-"

"Be patient, Mr. Longbottom." he says sharply, and for a moment I am again the student who got tangled up in the pranks of my roommates and was brought before the headmaster. "I will explain everything, if only you will listen."

"Sorry." I murmur, weaving my fingers together.

"Alice managed to delve into the mind of Lord Voldemort, but only briefly. He is an accomplished Occlumens as well, and he managed to cut off the connection just before she was able to see a critical piece of information."

I lean forward, caught up in the excitement of my wife's secret. "What is that?"

Dumbledore continues eagerly. "You see, Alice was able to discover Voldemort's greatest secret. He _split his soul_."

"What?"

"Yes, he created Horcruxes. Horcruxes allow you to conceal a sliver of your soul. Not much is known about them. Most people who attempt it do not survive. The part that Alice was missing however, is how many there are. If we want to kill Voldemort, we've got to kill all of them."

"Why didn't she tell me?" I ask, hurt. I still feel slightly betrayed that Alice would entrust Dumbledore with this secret but not me.

"Forgive me, Frank, but Occlumency is not your stronghold. Your emotions are often reflected on your face. Your strengths lie elsewhere. If we were to tell you and Voldemort captured you, the mission would be over."

I nod. "What did she tell you?"

"She gave me a small vial of her memories of delving into his mind. However they aren't much help, just snippets of various scenes and conversation. The true ability of a Legilimens does not lie solely in their ability to delve into the mind, but their ability to interpret what they see, as well. Alice is the only one who knows." He answers gravely.

"Professor? Pardon me, but I still don't see how this relates to healing Alice." Even though we could potentially rid the world of Voldemort, it seems inconsequential next to the blank stare of my wife. Besides, it seems like Voldemort is already gone. At least, that's what I'd like to believe.

"Frank. The key to destroying Voldemort is literally locked inside of Alice's mind. The only way to get access to the information we desperately need, we _have to heal Alice._" Dumbledore says gravely.

He gets up, inclining his head slightly. "I hope you understand how important this is, Frank. This kind of trauma can only be healed by love, not magic. And you are the one who loves her the most."

He crosses the distance to the door in three long strides. He opens the door and disappears through it.

I watch the door swing closed, feeling strangely betrayed by the man I had trusted beyond all reason. As he leaves, I realize that Professor Dumbledore's visit was not motivated by friendly reasons.

No, Albus Dumbledore always has a plan.

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**Author's Note**: Wow if you made it all the way through that chapter and are actually reading this, I admire your patience!

Please let me know if this is worth continuing. I generally write more lighthearted pieces and this was an experiment, of sorts. So I'd really appreciate it if you reviewed.

REVIEW. PLEASE. THANK YOU. Even if you thought it sucked, review and tell me why!

I would like to thank my beta reader, Raventongue, for editing this chapter :)

~VictoryNike


	2. I Promise

**Disclaimer:** The Harry Potter Universe and characters all belong to JK Rowling. I own nothing but the plot.

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**Chapter 2**

I Promise

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_"Love is a promise, love is a souvenir, once given never forgotten, never let it disappear."_

-John Lennon

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This is perhaps the oddest dream I have ever encountered. For one thing, color seems to be prominent in this dream. I never dream in color, yet in this fantasy, everything, from the slight, reddish blush of Alice's cheeks, to the exact shade of brown of her eyes, is perfect. Secondly, I know this is a dream. In my heart of hearts I know that none of this is real. Not Alice's laughing face, her eyes clear, filled with love. Not my own laughter filling the air, mingling with Alice's, a carefree sound. No, the last time we had been truly happy was before the war, back when we were innocent and ignorant, unaware of the horrors life had in store for us.

It's not real, yet I want so desperately for it to be true. My dream self looks down at my hands. Unbandaged, they are intertwined with Alice's, like they were always meant to be. Suddenly the vision turns dark, the world around us begins to spin. The smile fades from her face, she looks to me with her exquisite eyes infused with the panic I've seen all too often since the war began.

I tighten my grip on her hand, but her hand and mine are both slick with sweat. With a horrific jolt in my stomach, I realize I'm the only one still holding on. Alice's grip is loosening. The world spins faster, and the wind tears her hand from mine. She is gone, sucked into the vortex, lost from me forever.

I wake, unable to see anything for the wetness in my eyes. I wipe my tears away quickly. I take a deep breath before opening my eyes, knowing the reality is just as painful as the dream.

I am positioned uncomfortably on the armchair beside Alice's bed, my neck bent at an odd angle. My cheeks and chin are covered with two day old stubble. I notice someone has placed a small, reflective package on the table beside Alice's bed. I peer at it, struck by my own bloodshot eyes and cracked lips. My face is unrecognizable. It seems fitting, since my heart is gone. Lost with Alice's love.

I open the package, sliding my finger under the tape, slitting it. I pull the paper away, revealing a box of Drooble's Best Blowing Gum. I stare at it uncomprehendingly. It's painfully familiar. I vaguely remember slipping it into my pocket in a small candy store along with my change- 3 Knuts- in Diagon Alley, remembering Alice's fondness for the sweet. I had never gotten to give it to her.

The tears fall fast and thick. I glance at Alice. She sleeps, almost peacefully. A small crinkle between her eyebrows betrays that her sleep is not blissful. Promptly, she wakes, her eyes glassy. "Alice?" I call.

She doesn't hear me. She simply resumes her staring at the wall. I feel a surge of frustration course through my veins. What was wrong? Why couldn't she respond? Why was I so helpless? How was I supposed to heal her?

"ALICE!" I scream loudly. My voice could awaken the dead.

She doesn't stir.

"ALICE! ALICE! Look at me! Just _look_ at me, _please_ look at me..." I am sobbing now, grabbing her by the shoulders, shaking her in a futile attempt to bring back the light in her eyes. But she is dead to the world, but an empty shell of who she was. Her heart beats, but her spirit is gone.

I hear the door creak open. I turn to find my mother, dressed as always, to intimidate. Her bright red handbag is clutched in her hand, crocodile skin heels on her feet. Her ghastly hat bearing a stuffed vulture is positioned on her head. I wince when I see it. That hat used to scare me to death as a boy.

I look her right in the eye defiantly, daring her to reprimand me, daring her to say _"I told you so"..._

My mother had been ridiculously opposed to Alice and I getting married. She had thrown a fit, saying we were too young and immature. As far as we were concerned, we loved each other. We would have been married anyway. What was the point in delaying it? Besides, our professions as Aurors put our lives in danger every second of the day. We wanted to live while we could, to be together all the time. My mother wouldn't hear of it. She claimed we were rushing into a relationship, that I would regret it later. I told her that fate couldn't be rushed, that Alice and I were meant to be.

Nothing would convince her. So we eloped. When Neville was born, Alice sent a birth announcement to my mother without my knowledge. One day my mother showed up on our doorstep, asking to see her grandson. She offered to care for him when Alice and I were out on missions for the Order and Ministry.

Reluctantly, I agreed. The last thing I wanted was for Neville to have to grow up in the same, musty mansion where I had spent my boyhood days. Even worse, raised by the same, strict woman who had raised me. Yet, there was nothing else we could do. There was nowhere else safe for my son to be.

Now, sitting beside my mindless wife, facing my mother who had so stringently opposed our marriage, I fix her with a hard glare.

To my surprise, the expression on her face is one of defeat and concern. She brushes past me to sit at the edge of Alice's bed.

"Alice, dear. It's me, Augusta." she says softly, stroking Alice's short black hair.

My mouth drops open in disbelief. Somehow I cannot comprehend my mother being kind and loving. My childhood memories involve a cold and distant mother, always criticizing everything from my looks to my grades. I spent my summers at my friends' homes as much as possible, otherwise I'd sneak silently around our mansion, careful to avoid my mother.

My mother grabs the Drooble's Gum off of Alice's bedside table and pulls out a stick of gum. She places it carefully in Alice's hand.

I still can't seem to understand. My mother was extremely opposed to candy of all sorts, especially those with special effects like Drooble's.

"Chew it, Alice, honey." she encourages.

Something flickers in the depths of Alice's eyes, eyes that could once enthrall me for hours. Something rises in my chest as well, as if the ghost of my heart had returned.

Alice's delicate fingers close and open around the piece of gum childishly, as if unsure what to do with it.

My mother smiles and nods. Alice gazes at the colorful wrapper, mesmerized by its brightness. My mother carefully unwraps the candy, placing it back in the palm of Alice's hand.

Alice blinks. She transfers the candy from one hand to the other, molding it with her fingers.

Mother sighs softly. Then she reaches into the gum box and pulls out another stick of gum. "Look over here Alice, darling."

She unwraps the gum, opens her mouth wide and drops it onto her tongue, chewing exaggeratedly. Then I understand. My mother is trying to teach Alice to chew the gum.

Alice opens her mouth hesitantly. I subconsciously lean towards Alice, silently urging her on. She brings her hand slowly toward her mouth, her eyes fixated on the bluebell colored sweet.

"Very good, dear. That's it, keep going now." My mother encourages, her lipstick covered mouth turned up in a smile.

Out of the blue, the candy's progress toward Alice's mouth stops as abruptly as it began. For one long moment, the three of us look at the brightly colored stick of gum. Then the miniscule flame in Alice's eyes goes out, giving way to the blank stare that has become all too familiar in the past few days. Her hand drops to the bed, the tiny piece of gum, released from her grasp, falls to the floor. My ghost of a heart evaporates, as does my hope.

I bury my face in my hands. "Chin up, Frank." my mother says softly. I can't remember the last time she spoke to me so gently.

Her eyes glisten with tears. I feel my own eyes widen. I had always considered my mother to be void of all emotion. How wrong I was.

"Do you see, Frank? Do you see how to heal her?" she demands suddenly, fixing me with a hawk-like glare.

I shake my head. "How?" I ask, my voice gravelly. I need this answer more than anything. I must save Alice.

"Think, boy. Think with all of the brain in that fool head of yours, that is, if there is any."

I feel anger bubble up inside me. As a child, I dealt with her cutting remarks and sarcastic comments on a daily basis. I had hated summer holidays, because it meant coming home to her and her constant displeasure with me.

Yet, I listen to her. I think, because I cannot afford to lose my temper, not now. Alice's sanity is at stake.

Bubblegum. Alice recognized it in some small way, even if she did not know exactly what to do with it. Could her memory be called back? Was some small part of Alice still locked inside of her? Could it be triggered in other ways?

"I have to trigger Alice's memory...with other objects, things that could be familiar to her."

My brow furrows as my mind races, fueled by this new ray of hope.

"Very good, Frank." My mother beams. I look up at her, bewildered by the proud expression on her face.

She rises, patting me on my shoulder as she passes, ducking slightly beneath the door frame so as not to upset her vulture hat.

I lean in to kiss Alice's cheek. "Don't worry. I'll find a way to bring you back." The certainty in my own voice startles me a little. "I don't care how long it takes. I'll travel to the ends of the earth to bring you back if I have to. I promise."

* * *

**Author's Note: **Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed or alerted the first chapter. Sorry for the tiny chapter, but this was too good of a stopping point to waste.

BTW, If you are a fan of Alice/Frank, check out my story Mischief Managed. It's a Lily/James story, but Alice/Frank is my other favorite couple, so there will be quite a bit of their story interwoven into James and Lily's, and vice versa. :)

Please review. It inspires me to write faster. Really, it does.

~VictoryNike

7/8/12


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